The Last Night
by PotterHead31
Summary: James Potter promises himself he will never let anything happen to his family. But promises can't always be kept.


A/N: The first 'story' of such that I've had the guts to publish, so go easy on me, eh?

* * *

James Potter sighed for the umpteenth time that day alone, as he strode along the upstairs corridor of the small, refined cottage that he was recently forced to start calling 'home'.

Entering the bedroom he shared with his wife, James crossed the room and slid underneath the warm, safe haven of the goose-feather duvet, next to Lily. He didn't say anything to her; He certainly didn't carry out his usual ritual of kissing her goodnight.

The covers shuffled as Lily turned over to face him, her usual bright eyes tired and weary. Her dark red hair, falling over the sides of her head, framed her sleepy face. The corners of her thin lips curved, shocking James that he could have earned a smile from her after today, and he smiled back at her in spite of himself.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you earlier, James." She stated, softly. The gentle candle light illuminated her small face, and remnants of today's makeup lay marked across her pale features.

The afternoon had been spent in the midst of a brewing argument, until Lily had erupted, causing a full-blown shouting match. Times like that reminded James of their Hogwarts years, when Lily hated him with an on-growing passion.

He opened his mouth to reply, to console her, tell her that he didn't mind really, but she continued.

"I get so worried," She admitted, "What if something happens to you? All this work with the order is so dangerous. What will happen to Harry if we get blown up by deatheaters and he doesn't have his parents anymore?" Voice cracking, Lily repressed a sob.

Enclosing her small frame in his arms, James' turned her words over in his head. The constant question: _What if?_ Of course, when Harry was born, the couple had assigned a godfather for him: their dear friend, Sirius Black. But James worried whether Padfoot would be fit to take care of an infant. Even and, perhaps, _especially_ after he lost two of his best friends? Would James' life-long friend be able to overcome the consuming grief that would surely follow the death of the couple?

Prickling with anger at himself for even letting these thoughts devour him, James shook them off, telling himself that nothing would happen to either of them.

"We'll be fine, Lily-pad," He used his old nick-name for her as a way to console her, holding her shaking body close to him as she wept.

The two energies lay there for a few minutes, still, with the only sounds of Lily's slowing sobs, holding one another. Neither of them was considerably tired, nor wide-awake, but in that moment, they simply needed one another.

Another moment passed and soon distant cries could be heard, echoing around the room from the charms cast each night to ensure their son's distress could be heard if he so needed them.

Lily shuffled away with a quiet murmur of, "I'll get him; it's my turn." and hurriedly reached the door, before disappearing out into the hallway.

Sitting up, James sighed deeply and ran one hand, idly through his mop of dark hair. Thoughts similar to those Lily had just confided in him so often plagued him. The seemingly endless work he was required to do for The Order was becoming increasingly dangerous and though he did everything in his power to stay safe, this was difficult when it came to duelling with Deatheaters left, right and centre.

But that wasn't the only cause of concern the couple had. Merlin knew the three Potter's were in a lot of danger, even in the desired safety of their own home. Arguments, such as the ones that had blown up today, often occurred merely for an excuse to expel frustration. Being locked up in the small cottage was straining Lily terribly, and although friends visited from time to time, it was few and far between. It was simply the nature of going-into-hiding, but it was definitely an added stress for the both of them.

James was pulled out of his depressing thoughts when the door of their bedroom opened once more and Lily reappeared, balancing a red-faced, dark haired infant on her hip.

"He won't go back down," she sighed, crossing the room towards their double bed. James extended his arms for the 15-month-old and sat him on his lap as his wife climbed back into bed, resting her head on the pillow. Allowing his tired son to roll onto the soft mattress and into his mother's arms, James lay down too, resting his head opposite Lily and smiling at her as she stroked Harry's raven hair. Looking down at his son, who was facing him, his back held against Lily's chest and his chubby hands pinching curiously at the duvet cover, James began to speak in a voice pitched slightly higher than normal.

"Whatsamatter, kiddo?" He grinned goofily. "It's Halloween tomorrow, and we're going trick-or-treating, aren't we? You can thank your Uncle Sirius for convincing your mummy to let us take you."

Glancing at his wife, James gave her a crooked smirk as she rolled her eyes.

"We'll get lots of sweets, won't we, Harry?"

"Yes, sweets that he can't eat because he's a 15-month-old. I'm not letting him have anything more solid than chocolate." Lily interrupted, nagging like a worried mother. But, James reasoned to himself, she_ is_ a worried mother.

Ignoring her and addressing his gurgling son again, "Don't listen to your mummy, Harry. She worries too much."

Careful not to disconcert Harry, Lily kicked her husband, giving him a half-hearted glare. James just smiled widely.

"It's late, Harry. We should go to sleep before your-" James glanced up at his wife pointedly, "-_lovely, and beautiful _ mummy becomes even more violent."

A whimsical smile crossed his features and he swooped his head down to kiss his sons pudgy fist that was reaching up to grab the pillows. He leant back and blew out the candle on the bedside table, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust to the absence of light.

"Goodnight, Harry." He murmured into the darkness.

It didn't take long for his retinas to begin to pick up shapes in the darkness and he could soon see his wife's uneasy face, her eyes lacking their usual sparkle and her teeth digging into her lip as she bit it.

Leaning forwards until their foreheads met, he whispered, "It'll all be OK, Lily. We'll be OK."

"Mmm." She mumbled, unconvinced. He kissed her slowly, softly, trying to convey his message in those few moments.

He would keep her safe. He would keep Harry safe.

James Potter would never let anything happen to his family.

"I love you." Were the final words they shared, as James pulled away once more and closed his eyes, welcoming the sweet relief of sleep.

The final words they shared on, what they would soon realise, was their final night.


End file.
